The Red Tale Get it? HA!
by The Duchess of Chuzzles
Summary: The TRUE story of the real lives of five young humans and one alien! chosen to champion mankind in the fight against a deadly evil. Rated for language, violence, situation, and misuse of hair. Your life will be forever incomplete unless you read this.


**Disclaimer **All characters, creatures, plot devices, et cetera belong to K.A. Applegate. Also, remember that vulgarity, crude humour, and general offensiveness are all in good fun, so take it lightly please. Enjoy!

**Note **Double parenthases indicate thought-speak. HTML is as gay as a bonfire.

**The Red Tale (Get it? HA!)**

******Chapter the First**

Hi. My name is Marco. I can't you more because I'm currently under the care of the Witness Protection Program. Only they're being infilitrated by Yeerks, so I guess I'm not really safe anywhere. And come to think of it, neither are you! Danger! DANGER! RUN AWAYYYYYY!

Kidding.

Anyway, I wasn't joking about the part where I can't tell you my last name, because they're here. The Yeerks. I mentioned them a minute ago before my fit. Yeah, I have fits. I mean, everyone does. And I'm a pretty average kid; long, shaggy black hair, that falls gracefully to my eyebrows. And that's just the hair that grows on my forehead.

Girls call me "cute", but I don't want to be "cute", I want to be "hot". And by "hot", I mean "gorgeous". Or should I say, "gorjuth"? That's the way Jake says it when he and I are role-playing in his cousin Rachel's younger sister Jordan's closet.

There are five of us humans, and a freakazoid alien creep-o named Aximili Isgarrouth-Isthill. Why I know that is none of your concern. Twangg! That was way snappy. Jake is kind of the leader, if your definition of leadership is having first dibs on all Hork-Bajir ass.

He looks like a comic-book hero, all muscles and slow smile that only serves to deceive Cassie, the token black environmentalist in dung-covered overalls and pitchfork. She's the Devil. And her best friend is Rachel, who always looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She's _Xena: Warrior Princess_ and is fierce and fearless despite her flawless looks. Her not-so secret crush is Tobias, the resident hawk-boy (when you stay in morph past the time limit of two hours, you become trapped and that's called a _nothlit_, because those guys are always reading existentialist philosophers. Get it? Nothing literature? HAW HAW that was fucking hilarious). I hear that he doesn't even morph back to human when they…wait, what?

Anyway, we're not going to talk about Ax today because his blue tail is distracting me. I'll be back in forty-three minutes. Later!

Seventeen minutes later, we were all in Cassie's barn for an impromptu meeting of the Mighty Morphin' Animals. The barn is actually the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center for all kinds of roadkill that her dad finds on his late-night rampages in the mountains. So it's not that unusual to find a flattened skunk, or an entire decaying family of opossum, and the odd maggot-infested badger in the cages that line the walls. Sometimes, there's even most of a horse with all the good parts still attached in one of the unused stalls. That's also the place where Ax's brain surgery took place. Did I say brain surgery? I meant tickly-hoof.

Jake stood in the center with his arms crossed over his chest, a concerned look on his face.

"Toby and the free Hork-Bajir just let us know yesterday that the Chee are now allied with the Howlers, who discovered a way to recreate the Pemalites whose new energy source are the Taxxons, which means that they are at odds with the Yeerks, but Visser Three wants to strike a deal with the Ellimist so that Crayak and his first mate Crayola don't succumb to the boom chigga wazzle crystallized cysts. Oh yeah, and the Ongachik clans are united in war against the Norse brethren of Parmesan with a little pepperoni and mustard sauce. Everyone got that? This calls for an _infiltration_ mission" – and he shot a mean look at Rachel, who shifted uncomfortably in place – "and we have to be _fast_. Timing is _everything_. And I _do_ mean _everything_ is _italicized_ for _emphasis_. _OKAY?_"

"Jeez, man, no need to shout. I heard you loud and clear," Tobias said from his customary perch on Jake's belt loops.

"Okay. Ax-man, you need to…Ax? Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Everyone turned to look at the deerlike, blue-furred extraterrestrial with delicate arms and a wicked-looking tail twitching in slow circles on the floor of the barn. Cassie stooped down to examine him and then straightened up again.

"Hey guys, I think he's morphed to human. But only the mouth!"

"Taste! Tay-stuh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Mic check one-two one-two! Oooh. That is a pleasing mouth-sound. It sounds like the _abraxan_ that grows on the Andalite homeworld that every young males samples as part of his rite of passage. And this is the real reason why Andalites cannot lay down to sleep. Eep. Puh. Uh." Suddenly, his tail arced over his head faster than you could blink, and two of Tobias' talons clattered to the floor.

Ahh, shit! That was the last thing I registered before I noticed a reddish-brown feathered streak falling straight to the floor. Tobias' shit was officially ruined. I sniggered. Because that's what I do. Because I am the dark, reluctant, sarcastic Hispano. Did I mention that my father is unemployed?

Anyway, the meeting was not going as Jake planned. Rachel tore apart three stray raccoons, even before she was halfway through her grizzly morph. I like to think she enjoys acquiring such powerful, dangerous animals because really, all she wants is a hug and a mini-muffin. But no one will give it to her, so she takes sanctuary inside the furry bodies of other creatures.

So that was the mission. A suicide mission. Every time, the price is a little higher, and that desperate look on Cassie's face would scare me a little more. Especially since I know that she'll extort me for meth money again.

"Come _on_, Marco—you owe me big time when I covered your ass from that little incident with your friend "No". Or did you think I forgot about that? Girlfriend's hiding a lot more than Greenpeace fund money so watch it, wetback." And with that, she turned to leave, in her dung-covered dungarees.

I was astounded.

I had never heard Cassie speak to anyone like that, except when she'd call 1-900-555-HURT late at night, when she thought no one was listening—except Jake and I, both in flea morph. But I seriously believed I would be exempt because my acerbic wit and my darkly handsome good looks.

In this case, "darkly handsome" meant a fine covering of Cassie's aardvark manure.

Whatever. I washed off as best as I could and made it to my third-period class, ignoring the stares I got as I brushed by the rest of the kids and sat in my usual place all the way at the back of the room. Suddenly, Mr. Newsome, my history teacher, stood up and clutched his neck and sputtered a few incomprehensible words before slumping against the blackboard and sliding very, very slowly to the floor.

Ax, as always, was five minutes off cue, and while he galloped through the door, wicked-looking tail-blade slicing through the air and shaving off the noses and elbows of my fellow classmates, another Andalite appeared at the window.

"Ah, so we meet again," he said, as he began morphing into something terrible. It was Visser Three. I could _feel_ his evil, even though I couldn't see the Yeerk wrapped around his infested brain, feeding off his thoughts and feelings. He completed his morph into a gigantic strand of hair, follicle and all, and slowly reached through the open window and gently tickled Mr. Newsome's unconscious forearm.

Suddenly, thirteen Death Eaters Apparated and began skulking around the demolished classroom. Ron cried, "That's rubbish!" before disappearing into a mass of grasping hands. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took a Portkey in, since he was running late from having a row with Snape and all. He pointed a craggy, yellow finger at Visser Three, and the last thing I saw was a lipless mouth shaping words I could not understand, before I woke up in the Hospital Wing.

Huh? What? Oh! Cross-over action! Sha-_zam_!

I needed to morph, and fast. Flea? No, it only brought back painful memories of a time that Jake and I had shared playing Hosts And Parasites. Fly? The last time I morphed fly I nearly lost control of its instincts and spent the better part of two hours wing-deep in my own feces. No—I needed speed and _power_, and what could be better for that than…my Chapman morph?

Yes, I had acquired my vice principal during one of our weekly hand-holding sessions. I began to concentrate on his bristly sideburns, his longish fingernails, and I felt my body changing. Kind of like how they taught us in health class.

Well, my voice dropped, but my testicles did not descend. Too bad.

All around me, I could hear the sounds of the battle raging on. Red streaks of light sliced through the air. _Tseeewww_! Somewhere off to the side, Tobias lost another leg to the offending Dracon beam. "_Shreeeeli skreeeee _another drumstick for meeeee," a Taxxon cried out greedily as it slithered forward to _shloop_ it up with his long red tongue. Let me tell you something about Taxxons. They're _voluntary_ hosts, meaning that they _offered_ to have those filthy Yeerks take over their brains and bodies, meaning that they _surrender_ nightly to the perverse delights of such films as _Kingdom of Taxxon_, _Alien Moneyshot Pr0n Vol. 6_, and _Broke_­­­-_Yeerk Mount 'Em_.

I bounded forward, letting the bunched muscles of Chapman's legs uncoil in a dizzying leap and thought, _He needs more potassium in his diet_. I jumped from the desk to the floor. Marco! Help me! I looked around frantically, then I saw Cassie nearly unconscious, held in a vice-like grip by the evil hair strand.

It was then that I felt like I was paralyzed. Looking around, surveying the horror of the battle around me, I felt sick and I did not want to move. Tobias, both wings and legs missing, gently tumbling along the floor. Jake in tiger morph, eviscerating himself, goaded on by the wagers of the cheering Hork Bajir. Rachel, shopping in grizzly morph. Cassie, almost dead. Ax…where was he? Something felt wrong—very wrong.

With a final, longing glance at the Hork-Bajir I was 'lesting, I turned around to face the unspeakable horor that was growing with each second. Suddenly, with a sickening sensation, I knew where Ax was.

He was morphing too, and a strange dread filled me. Even Cassie, who was the most talented out of all of us, couldn't manage to make the hair morph artistic. Ax's too-many-fingered hands shrank back into his body, and his facial features melted. He fell forward, and lengthened, tightly coiling as he grew.

I couldn't believe it. Ax morphed pube.

_This isn't happening_, I told myself. But in a strange way, I understood. The ruthless part of myself from back when I tried to kill my mom knew that this was the only thing that could take on Visser Three's hair morph. But this gigantic, undulating hair strand of varying widths made me queasy, and as the hairs began to do battle, I passed out.

Hey, I never said I was the brave one.

When I came to, we were back in Cassie's barn. She was re-affixing Tobias' limbs, and Jake gave me a look of disgust. Uh-oh. He would never let me live this down. He muttered, "Wuss," as he brushed by me to stroke Tobias' beak. It fell off.

"Ach! What the—? Cassie, stop!" Jake cried as he proceeded to poke and prod 'Tobias' until only a pile of feathers remained. "We've been _had_!" He clutched his right hand and sank to the floor. Rachel stared. "What's with the hand?"

"Oh, you know…too much beating." Jake straightened and stood with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He continued, "The mission was a success. Even though no one knows what the hell is going on."

((Yes, comrades. I _owned_ that fur-turd imposter Visser Three! He got _permed_, son! Yes, niggers, yes!)) Ax was exuberant.

"Uh, guys, I think we have to stop Ax from morphing black. The DNA must be leaking or something." We all laughed.

((Oh please, Jake. Don't pretend that _you've_ never acted foolishly while in a morph)), Ax sneered. ((Remember what I caught your mass doing in Zero-space? Even if you think that it doesn't count if you do it in the white blankness of Z-space with the fleshly globules of unmorphed body parts, it's still a punishable crime in all four quadrants of the galaxy, bitch.)) With that, Ax reared up of his hind legs and boxed Jake's ears with his front hooves.

((Schooled.)) Ax gave one of those mouthless Andalite smiles. He added, ((After-school special. Detention. Janitor. Night shift. Early-morning gym. _Homeroom_.))

I don't know what that was about, but it was over. We all split up when we left the barn so that we wouldn't look suspicious.

Later that night, we all met at the Gardens, which was like a kick-ass amusement park meets P.T. Barnum's retarded little brother. The animals were all missing stuff. Stuff like whiskers. Tails. Once, I even shaved a mountain goat's beard. Now you know what fur glued to my chest is. But the DNA was intact.

"We _have_ to find a way to defeat the - " Jake started to speak but he was interrupted. "What about the Drode?" Rachel seemed worried. I sneered. Again. THEN THE ELLIMIST APPEARED (cheap plot device alert! Wooo! Wooo! Wooo! Mouth sounds). "There is no Drode." We stared at the softly glowing, human-looking being whose ears were swept up into points and whose light source was the Christmas light on his incher. "Only the Chude exists now."

"What's a Chude?" I asked him. Ruthless people are innately curious.

"Chick-dude. Chude. Crayak and I got bored so we showed him the business end of an E-Z Bake Oven but Visser One got stuck in there too, you see, so something horrible came out. Anyway, I came to tell you that the one called Marco will alter his own timeline." I threw poop at him, but he only said, "Beautiful. In all the universe..." before disappearing.

I didn't know what to think. I started wandering off. ((See ya later, masturbator!)) Only Cassie could be that charming. I looked around and saw her halfway to osprey. She had morphed only the beak and the eyes on an otherwise normal face. It was a sobering reminder for me to pick up some Colt 45 on the way home.


End file.
